Further Up and Further In
by whingingwhippets
Summary: Takes place some short years after Elphaba goes underground after leaving Shiz. Glinda continues to look for purpose and perspective, as well as Elphaba. Elphaba and Glinda's friendship and relationship is central.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All characters from _Wicked_ belong to Gregory Maguire**

**I lifted the title from what I recalled as a line from one of my fave childhood series, C.S. Lewis' Narnia books. **

**Bookverse with some gleaned Musicalverse as well when it suits.  
****Takes place some short years after Elphaba goes underground after leaving Shiz.**** Glinda continues to look for purpose and perspective, as well as Elphaba. Elphaba/Glinda friendship/relationship is central.  
**

**I decided that I _couldn't_ decide about starting a sequel to my first fic, or continuing it. I came to the conclusion that I was not finished with Rare Birds and Revelations, but was not in the frame of mind to continue it quite at this moment. So…I took the bit of foreshadowing I included in my last chapter and ran with that for now, therefore basically starting a sequel, but have not finished the first part. Confused yet? In other words, I knew where I was going, and wanted to get some of it started while it was fresh in my head. (nothing like lying around in mild discomfort with nothing better to do that read or think or type…) I spent 6 hours stairing out the windows yesterday as the southwestern virginia highlands went speeding by, and if I could have typed without getting too urpy, I could've pounded out a few more chapters yesterday. As it is, I will keep up with both of them from now as best I can.  
**

**So, this takes place a good ways down the road from Rare Birds and Revelations, but it is in my head still a continuation. But I will return to Rare Birds as my mood and mobility improves!  
**

* * *

**A/N I left off Rare Birds last chapter with this: ( but again, I have not finished with Rare Birds yet by a long shot I promise)  
**

**Hope, anticipation, faith, all are funny things. And it wasn't far off that Autumn when Elphaba and Galinda would learn how long they could hold out; how long they would have to hold out, and how two hours can be a mere blink of time. They would come to know that a body, a soul could stretch an hour, a handful of hours or nights, and keep them close and burning brightly at times, or glowing and warm in the longer in-betweens.**

* * *

She dispelled the bubble along with the glamourie as soon as she touched down on the balcony of the Arduenna ancestral family home. She shivered as the tingle of magic slid away, leaving her feeling, as it always did now, a little tainted. Shedding that Glinda always relieved her, and left a veneer of shame clinging to her. It lingered more these days. But it was good to be home, even if it was only for enough time to wash the grime of her life away for a few days. 

Sighing, she opened the balcony doors and headed inside. It happened that Whinnow was in her rooms upstairs just then, and she glanced up startled when the doors opened, but then she relaxed again. The woman's face gave away what Glinda suspected; she must look as hellish as she felt.

"Good morning Lady Glinda, it does my heart good to see you home. I'm so sorry, I was just seeing to your quarters, I didn't realize you were expected, else I would have finished before now. My apologies. Shall I draw you a bath, and let you parents know you've arrived, or perhaps they know already?" Whinnow dipped her head in a perfunctory curtsy and moved towards her now, reaching out to take her traveling cloak as Glinda removed it.

"No, no, not yet, but thank you Whinnow." She handed her pink cloak over. "I'm heading out again as soon as I can get a few things together. Mother and Father don't know I've come yet, but please do tell them, and let them know I'll join them for dinner in two days if you would. Sir Chuffrey stayed in the city, so no need to worry about his rooms."

"Certainly my Lady. I'll inform the rest of the staff and your mother, then I'll be back to collect the rest of your traveling clothes for cleaning shortly. Should I turn Ghillie out as well? He's been pining a bit, so I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you."

Glinda allowed herself a small smile and chuckle and teased the middle-aged woman. Whinnow hadn't been her Ama, but she'd been with her family since Glinda was tiny. "And how could you tell then? But yes, that would do I think. We'll keep each other company. Thank you Whinnow."

Whinnow ducked her head and left the room, thinking she was hiding the look of worry on her face better than she had. Glinda noticed. She sighed. Even had she done a better job, Glinda knew everyone was concerned about her. And they had been for quite a while now. She didn't know whether to be offended or grateful, so she spent a little time feeling both for half a minute before she heard some telltale clicking across the Ixian marble stairs, increasing in tempo and volume as it came down the hall.

Ghillie came trotting in with his long mournful face, looking as happy as the stately Vinkus Hound possibly could. He had grown well into his adult dog hood. Extremely long of limb and lanky, he had been well-suited for ranging the dry deserts of his native lands, but here, he often looked a wee bit miserable and altogether too damp. But he had a fine time around the estate, coursing the rabbits and running them to ground, the poor things. But he was so proud of his prowess she didn't begrudge him it too much. And Father adored him, even if he said he couldn't tree anything worth the effort. And Mother loved him because he always looked like he needed loving. Loving and food as well. He was delicate in his acceptance of both. And she loved him because, because of where she had found him. And because he reminded Glinda of her. Reminded her of Elphaba.

At least he had his winter coat coming in a bit, feathering his tail, his narrow but deep chest and his flanks; he wouldn't suffer too much the next couple of nights of early Autumn in the Glikkus.

* * *

Whinnow meanwhile had hurried downstairs with the news for the staff that Lady Glinda was home, sans Sir Chuffrey for a brief but undetermined amount of time, and would be dining at the house in two evenings when she returned from her outing. She then set out to find Glinda's mother, finding her finally in the far wing, near the winter atrium. 

"She's back again then?" She asked, anxious for news. "And how does she look? She's going to…meditate then I take it?" Whinnow wished she could reassure Glinda's mother, but instead she shrugged and then nodded her opinion. It had been close on three months since Glinda had been home, and her last visit had been a social and family related affair, picnics and pleasantries. Not penance.

The Arduennas of the Uplands didn't stand on nearly as much ceremony as they once had. Not for a while now. Since the marriage to Sir Chuffrey – a 'good match' to be sure – Glinda had been handling the chores of being the rising star in the family well, so they couldn't complain.

But something had happened in the last couple of years that had dropped a cowl over their once vital bubbly girl. Still a young woman in their eyes, it was apparent the enthusiasm of her youth had faded. In the Spring two years ago, Galinda had shown up by bubble, a shell of herself, at the family home, with Ghillie in tow, both of them looking world-weary.

She'd been married for a handful of years already then but at the time they did wonder if her new beau had turned out in the end to be that unfortunately all-too-common breed of husband who hid a twisted or cruel bent. She assured them on this point, telling them Chuffrey was not to blame. Puzzled, they alternated between pressing too close, and allowing her complete solitude. Eventually after a wide enough berth, Galinda one day announced she was going on what she termed a 'hike'. They were puzzled still, thinking it was something she picked up at University, this 'hiking' thing. They watched with worry as she carefully packed some supplies, took a good stout walking stick, and led the gangly, perpetually hungry looking hound up into the hills and crags that ran for miles up into the mountains above them, feeling helpless.

Three days later, she'd returned. Filthy, damp, quiet, but more refreshed, and more…herself. In the meantime, the Family had somewhat come to a decision of sorts. They had seen the value in striving to make their daughter's family home a haven from public life, and not the showcase for society it had always been. They had planned for and used Galinda as the playing piece she had been, true. But the Glinda that had emerged from Shiz had become a person, a daughter that they were worried for. And while they felt helpless to a larger extent when it came to her well-being outside in Oz at large, they did feel that at the very least they could attempt to alleviate as opposed to aggravate the pressures of her public life when she came home.

These peculiar outings to the mountains she made always seemed to hollow her out, cauterize some wound they couldn't see themselves. Whether that was a good thing or not, Delia Arduenna did not know.

* * *

Glinda made short work of changing into suitable clothing, but she was also was methodical in the extreme about seeing to everything thing she needed for these particular trips by herself. It was becoming a ritual. She'd gone through a lot of her young life twittering along, not knowing who she was, worse yet actually being callow enough to believe she _did know_ who she was. She'd had everything done for her most of her life, and it had showed. But that had changed. Even if her public persona didn't always reflect that fact. 

This packing and preparation had become part of her journey, as much as sending the bubble away, as greeting Ghillie, squatting down to look him in his big sad eyes, and gently tugging his ears in hello.

Once she had most of what she needed packed, she penned a quick note at her writing desk.

_Mother and Father_

_I've gone upland for a few days with Ghillie. We'll take good care of each other. See you in time for dinner the day after tomorrow, weather permitting _

_– G._

She folded the note, picked up her rucksack and let out short whistle. "Come on my friend, off we go." She headed down the servants' stairs, and to the kitchen and cellar, grabbing necessary items as she went, snuck into the great room and left her note on the large muskwood table, and then it was out onto the back lawn, surrounded by stone. Then beyond that through the vineyards, and soon they were winding their way up into the highlands.

Ghillie loped along next to her, sometimes ranging ahead to take a bead on something rustling in the brush, but never too far. Nor did he straggle too far behind, bolting back to catch up with her if he fell too far behind for his comfort, or for that matter, hers. Glinda set a brisk pace for herself. It wasn't mid day yet, but it wasn't much more than an hour or so before that time, and she had more than a few miles of punishing terrain ahead of her. They continued on. Further up and further in.

**Sorry if anyone is confused, I just took a turn for the serious this week, so thought I should run with what was in my head for now. I will keep up with both stories, really. Thanks for reading, and any reviews that come my way, as I shifted gears quite a bit, I'm a little nervous frankly!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All characters from _Wicked_ belong to Gregory Maguire**

**I lifted the title from what I recalled as a line from one of my favorite childhood series, C.S. Lewis' Narnia books. **

**Bookverse with some gleaned Musicalverse as well when it suits.  
Takes place some short years after Elphaba goes underground after leaving Shiz. Glinda continues to look for purpose and perspective, as well as Elphaba. Elphaba/Glinda friendship/relationship is central.**

The afternoon warmed into one of those astoundingly brilliant azure skied fall afternoons. She was warm and loose now, and the close cropped curls on her head were a bit damp with effort, especially with the uphill hiking. She'd been moving upward for a couple of hours, and knew she had another hour to go.

She kept her eyes out for Animals as she went. She was always hoping to spot one, any one or any kind would do. Always hoping to prove Elphaba wrong. So far, she'd always been disappointed. When Ghillie stopped, head pointed up, eyes keen, stock still, she came to a halt to see what had drawn his attention. High, high up a gyre-falcon was circling. From this distance, she supposed it could in fact be a Falcon, but she couldn't be sure. It screamed and dropped on something unfortunate, and wheeled away with a screech. She allowed herself a small surge of hope, content with the possibility of it all, and also content to leave it at that. She continued onward. Ghillie relaxed again, and picked his way through the dry leaves next to the vague trail she was moving along.

* * *

Around three, she stopped by the small stream that she would follow most of the rest of the way, having an apple on a conveniently flat rock and listening to the water gurgle crisply. Ghillie stood in the water and made unsuccessful attempts to gulp at darter fish, until his feet got cold, and he came to warm himself on the rock with her, and get a piece of jerky. 

Sipping from a small cup filled from the stream, she savored the unique taste of fresh running water in a tin cup, and looked up at the gorge she'd have to get through. Up and over that and they'd nearly be at their destination. She figured another one to two hours. Plenty of time to settle in. From this distance and hours away, she still was able to look forward to it.

She finished her water and apple, offering the core to Ghillie who sniffed it suspiciously, but in the end took it delicately, and then chomped twice and it was gone.

She rose with the help of her walking stick, took a deep breath and began picking her way, slowly now, up the dry gorge.

* * *

As she topped the small hill that would let her down into the small hollow bowl where she would stop, she was relieved to see that it looked much the same as she'd left it in the spring. Leaves, copper, gold and yellow were still on the trees, but coming down now of course, adding a carpeted look to the little dell. The lean-to was there, leaning more than it probably should. 

She told Ghillie to entertain himself and look around, while she set to tidying her camp, and the dog promptly took off exploring, darting back to check on her progress every so often. He was likely headed to the lake or the stream that fed into it she supposed.

She cleared out the little half a hut that she'd built. She'd used some small magicks the first time she came, and used a weak maintaining spell to keep the material over the sleeping area waterproof, but the work was largely manual. The only work intensive chore she performed with magic now was getting wood for the fires she'd be building that night, and the next. She simply didn't have the room to carry the correct tools. Next time, she'd bring in an axe and leave it here for use next time. She didn't allow herself to consider maybe one day there wouldn't have to be a next time. But the hope was there nonetheless, just dormant.

* * *

An hour later, after she'd unpacked her rucksack of most of her things, she whistled for Ghillie, and sure enough he came from the direction of the lake, wet up to his chest and looking pleased with himself of course. 

'Lovely. Wet dog to curl up with this evening', she thought to herself and sighed. She followed him for the fifty yards to the lake. Well, followed him in a general way, as he was running rings around her and having fun, generally making a nuisance of himself. She allowed herself a real smile for his antics, and even encouraged him for a bit. It was the first time she'd smiled that way in a while.

The lake was beautiful, but she made her way to the little delta of stream that fed it, and stood there looking at it, fairly staring it down. It was a beautiful scene really, but she regarded it a bit grimly, with a challenge in her eyes. She grabbed two oversized bottles she had with her, and used twine to tie them up and secure them together. Squatting down so she could reach, she tied the other end to a large root, setting the bottles into the cold running water. They'd stay well chilled until she came for them tomorrow. She shivered once, turned on her heels and regarded the lake for a moment. The sun was thinking about setting soon, so she pointed her feet back to her small camp, and set about setting up the wood for a fire.

* * *

As dusk was moving along, all the chores seen to, she found herself staring into the fire. Ghillie was close to dosing now. Suddenly, she slapped her hands on the ground in resignation, and got up to retrieve a few things, and then resumed her seat, ready now. 

She uncorked the bottle of wine, slowly and deliberately and poured some into her tin cup. Ghillie regarded her from his place on his old blanket with his dark eyes.

She took a sip, holding the simple cup in both hands. She held an image of a laughing girl with emerald skin in her mind for a moment. Then she pushed it away, and saw herself as she had been. She was not kind to herself. She saw the sharp, cutting girl she had been when she first came to Shiz. Inexperienced but pretending to maturity for all she was worth. Then she let that image go as well, grateful to not have to see it any more.

Taking another sip of the wine, she held the light semi-sweet wine in her mouth before swallowing. Staring at the little glowing ashes as they rose with the smoke of the fire, she slowly closed her eyes to clear her vision.

Then she began to speak,

"Well Ghillie, my friend. Here we are again. Shall I tell you a tale then? A twice told tale, or thrice told tale as it has become now?" One day it would have its proper ending. But for now she knew it hadn't run its course, yet this was all she had to keep herself, her inner self, and her inner hopes alive.

And so she began the familiar path she walked in her mind towards atonement.

"That night. That night. I hadn't found you yet, as you know. You were probably wriggling around with your brothers and sisters still, scrabbling for milk and playing. Pulling on your mother's teats, or chewing her ears. And sleeping curled up tight. I wonder if you're the outgoing one of the bunch, because surely you are not the runt, hmm? Was your Dam the Dog, or was it your Sire? Someday, you'll tell me."

She was certain he understood her, and she was certain someday he would reply. She was sure of it. He just didn't have the habit of it yet. She didn't share her private theory on Ghillie with her family, beyond saying that she knew he liked to be talked to, to encourage them. It was a private thing. And even if he never uttered a word, speech lost due to his half-breed status, she still knew, _knew_ he understood her.

He regarded her steadily now, intelligently, and with what seemed like sorrow. Of course it was easy to imagine sorrow on his long face.

She took another long sip of wine, and cracked some snapjaw nuts, throwing the shells into the fire, leaned back against the rock at her back, feeling the chill of it soak through to the skin, and continued her confession.

"When I met up with Fiyero by chance that day, I couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen her. I knew he knew something, somehow about her, where she was, whether she was safe. I couldn't let it go, could I? Crope thought I was being my usual vapid self I'm sure. But. But. When I spoke of her, and her allergy to water, and Fiyero **_knew_** she used oil on her body to keep herself clean, I was certain he must be lying about having seen her at some point."

Hanging her head til her chin met her chest, she felt the same burning in her eyes and throat again as if it was two years ago all over again.

"And Lurline help me, but, oh how it cut me, that he knew _that_ detail. That little fact."

"After the first dizzy rush of hope and excitement I felt, being certain that he must have seen her, it took everything in me to keep my stomach from purging itself right there. I knew he must know, or knew her… as I had. After everything, even now, I can still call up that ugly feeling I had right at that moment."

She quirked the corner of her mouth a little and looked at her sole companion. The Hound, or hound, continued to keep any comments he might have to himself, and let out a sigh and continued watching.

"Well, it was another betrayal as far as I could see, and I was hurt all over again. I was almost undone right there. As far as I could feel, down to my bones, down in my soul, I ached for her still. And her words came back to me."

Another gulp of wine, and a piece of bread for Ghillie while she inhaled slowly.

"Yes indeed. 'Hold out, my sweet', my lily-white well-bred _ass_! What about her?" Her voice was thick now with unshed tears and self-pity she knew, but that was part of it all, wasn't it?

She looked over at Ghillie and answered the implied question coming from the Chorus, part of the litany.

"Yes, yes, obviously I married Chuffrey, but only after she'd left me, no contact, nothing, no word. Poof! I thought she must hate me. She must despise me, and I was so heartbroken. And you _know_, I know you do, that I still loved…love her. Chuffrey is just for convenience, he's nice enough, but we don't even share the same wing of our home for Lurline's sake! House, dwelling, whatever it is. He's having it on with any number of our maids you know. With my blessing, why shouldn't he? Just because I'm miserable doesn't mean he needs to be. He's a decent enough sort."

She sipped more wine, and thought about offering Ghillie some too, but decided that may not be wise.

"Oh Ghillie, I don't know why I begrudged her what I thought she might have with Fiyero. I know she wasn't…isn't someone or something that can be _tamed_. I do. And it's true, I hadn't the courage probably to go with her yet. But, she didn't even _try_ me. She could've asked. She could've helped me find the courage."

She was quiet now, as she poured more wine, moving on. Not wanting to do the next part of her recitation. She poked at the fire a bit, had a small chunk of bread, but not too much; she needed it for tomorrow night. She pulled some dried fruit out, and sipped more wine, stalling.

"I had him followed, you know. I didn't know then what he was doing there, or what she was about, or even that he wasn't involved. But, because of that, I knew, I knew quickly what happened to him, the night of the failed plan. I was there…" she began.

**Thanks to all for any reading and any reviews, they are much appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All characters from _Wicked_ belong to Gregory Maguire**

**I lifted the title from what I recalled as a line from one of my favorite childhood series, C.S. Lewis' Narnia books. **

**Bookverse with some gleaned Musicalverse as well when it suits.  
Takes place some short years after Elphaba goes underground after leaving Shiz. Glinda continues to look for purpose and perspective, as well as Elphaba. Elphaba/Glinda friendship/relationship is central.**

"I had him followed, you know. I didn't know then what he, or what she was about or even that he wasn't involved. But, because of that, I knew, I knew quickly what happened to him, the night of the failed plan. I was there…" she began.

---------------------------------------------------------------  
Ghillie was still watching and waiting for her to continue.

"_He, _Fiyero that is, never knew of course, until later. Vimli reported back within hours just his general whereabouts and activities. I had…have resources still. She'd lost him on the winding streets eventually, mighty hunter/warrior/tracker cum clan leader that he is and all…" she said bit dryly.

"But she was able direct me to where Fiyero had been last spotted."

Setting down her cup, she leaned forward, pulled her knees up and hugged them towards her chest, separating herself from contact with the bitter cold rock she'd been propping herself against.

"I just wanted to know if she was safe, that's all. Or that is what I told myself. "

She grabbed a handful of sand and dirt by her side, letting it dribble through her cupped fist, making little piles with it, doodling really.

"Of course I'd fantasized about seeing her again, in all kinds of scenarios. As the deluded are apt to do. Because that is what I was when it came to Elphaba I suppose; delusional, mad really. My mind careened from one scene to the next. I'd conjured all sorts of them over time, on one or another long lonely evening. Especially that first year of marriage after I'd sent Chuffrey down the hall..."

"In one I confronted her in my burning self-righteous anger; she would of course break down apologizing for leaving me alone in the first place, begging me to forgive her. Another had her tracking me down, spotting me around a corner, seeing me, and just having to speak to me to apologize and, again, beg forgiveness, which I would give of course. And there was always the casual chance meeting and her tearful relief at seeing me again. That was my favorite. They all ended with her holding me again. Kissing me again."

She hugged her knees tighter still, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow, rocking back and forth just a little.

"Yes. It was bad. I'd been alone a long time in my head and heart by then. I'd had a lot of time to think up these things. I filled my days with the social obligations that came with my 'blessed union,' but the nights...the nights were difficult."

Ghillie snorted, and pointedly started grooming a foot.

"Alright. I know. I'm stalling. Fine then."

"I went to that quarter of the city. I dressed in the drabbest thing I could find back then. Ha. Not so different than I'm dressed right now. No pink, that's certain."

"What's to say? I spotted him finally. I followed him to the courtyard…where those schoolchildren were. Where…where Morrible came out. Where Elphaba was waiting."

"Maybe. Maybe I would have known her by her gait, by the tilt of her head. I like to think I would have, but I don't know. I'd been half-looking for her in every stream of faceless groups passing by on every street corner, in every café, in every pub I was in, just out of habit. After the last time she'd checked in, what two years after she left?... I'd spent three of the last five years thinking I'd spotted her... But, by the time I got back to the house, I always came around to thinking I was just fooling myself. She was truly gone, even to me. Now…I don't know. Maybe I had been seeing her sometimes and didn't know it."

"Well. Fiyero was doing just as I was. He was spying. And it made my task easier. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. And, give her credit…I would never have recognized her. And now, here she was…finally!"

She picked up her wine again, finishing the dregs in smallish gulp. She uncorked her bottle again; less than half the contents remained. She poured again, and ran her hand through her shortish hair, remembering how it used to be longer, how Elphaba had loved her long curls. She'd started growing it again, but with curly hair, it took longer for the actual length to come back.

Gathering her breath, she started spitting her words out quickly to get them out and over with. If Ghillie couldn't understand her at this point, he didn't complain. He'd heard it before, or last Spring's version already anyway, so perhaps he didn't care how fast it was spilled out, as long as it was spilled. He had quit grooming and gone back to watching her, head resting on his paws.

"I saw what happened, or what didn't happen. I saw that…horrid, parasitic gulping carp of a woman. She swept by like…like nothing could ever touch her. Ever."

"I saw Elphie…Elphaba, stricken, paralyzed. The children, nasty in their pompous little way. I'm sure I was quite like them in my way when I was that age. And after even."

"I know now that they were in the way. I saw Fiyero watch her, looking just as immobilized. He looked afraid. Afraid for her, maybe a little afraid for himself. I only noticed that incidentally, and didn't spare much time for him at that moment, so who knows if my recollection of what I saw in him is real, or was superimposed later.

"I watched _her_, absorbed in her. She didn't see me. She didn't see him either. She was…."

And she laughed bitterly at this

"Well, I can say she was very much **_not_** looking like 'intention of action in motion' as I had thought of her once, long ago when I spied on her while she was stretching. My god was she beautiful then."

She shook her head as she said it, shaking the memory away.

"Now, though, she was… in a paroxysm of foiled intention I suppose. Now… she was sharp and dangerous looking. And passionate looking still."

"I kept watching, and as I looked again she slumped against a pillar. And did nothing. The children went streaming by, and that fool mascot was whirling about, blocking my view of her. When that damned thing passed, I couldn't catch sight of her. If nothing else is ever said of Elphaba, that woman could surely make herself scarce when she wanted to."

She let out a bitter snort.

"Anyway, I digress. Fiyero our Hero. After I saw that she was gone, Fiyero was still there. I wasn't worried about Elphie…Elphaba being gone at that point. I had a bead on him, so I assumed I could use him to flush her out later. So. Fiyero eventually left and I followed him. He went back to…where I guess she lived, or stayed. I suppose he stayed there with her as well."

"He entered the hideaway. I could only barely keep my mind focused enough to think of what I was doing. I'd already had a hell of a time catching a cab that would keep up with him. No one stops for a woman on their own you know. Not when they look like this anyway."

"So I was on the street a few dingy doors down from where I'd seen him enter. And then, I watched and waited, trying to decide if I should follow him in, or wait to see if she came back. While I was weighing what to do next, suddenly there was a man in uniform at my shoulder, grabbing my elbow hard. So hard it hurt."

Now she stopped talking. Her breathing was becoming difficult. She slowly unwrapped herself from the tight ball she had worked her way into while she spoke, and lay herself flat on the ground. She steadied her breath, narrowing her eyes, looking up at the stars, trying to ground herself. The stars became blurs and the constellations started pushing themselves forward. She must get herself through this part; and tomorrow she would wash herself in that river, numb herself anew, and that would take her breath away again. But now, she had to finish this part.

But she just wanted to stay on the ground, safe, watching the night sky rotate overhead, wait for everything to align itself again on its own, and make the world right. But she had learned a few things from Elphaba about that. Lying here waiting for The Ram to make way for The Handmaiden in the Spring's night sky wasn't going to accomplish anything.

And she laughed a rusty laugh out loud. Not only would that not help, but also she could imagine the quip Elphaba would make even. She could hear the raspy voice in her mind telling her "Lay there til Spring if you want, my sweet, but it's going to get damned chilly in the meantime. Not to mention birds or Birds will undoubtedly build a nest in your hair…and eventually what with all that wine, you're going to have to get up pee anyway, right? You never could hold it could you? So. You might as well get up and get on with this business you're about at the moment."

Lurline, she was losing it. She had far too many of these imaginary exchanges, even if Elphaba the Phantom always gave good advice.

A dry sound broke into her thoughts. Several twigs snap off to her right towards the direction of the lake. She turned her head quickly back towards the fire where Ghillie should be. He was there, on his feet staring past her towards the lake. He looked ready to bolt.

Slowly, she rose and propped herself on her elbows. Quietly. Ghillie suddenly dropped to his haunches and sat, whining. An oddly familiar, alarmingly unattractive haggish looking shape was entering her clearing.

**Thanks to all for any reading and any reviews, they are much appreciated. Sorry a bit short this time, I'm working on the next part now. This angsty stuff is harder to settle down and do sometimes!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All characters from _Wicked_ belong to Gregory Maguire**

**I lifted the title from what I recalled as a line from one of my favorite childhood series, C.S. Lewis' Narnia books. **

**Bookverse with some gleaned Musicalverse as well when it suits.  
Takes place some short years after Elphaba goes underground after leaving Shiz. Glinda continues to look for purpose and perspective, as well as Elphaba. Elphaba/Glinda friendship/relationship is central.**

Slowly, she rose and propped herself on her elbows. Quietly. Ghillie suddenly dropped his butt and sat, whining. An oddly familiar, alarmingly unattractive haggish looking shape was entering her clearing.

* * *

Glinda watched as she (and Glinda wasn't entirely sure why 'she' popped into her mind to describe the shape, but that was the sense of it somehow), moved out of the vague outline of the brush and trees surrounding her camp. Quickly pulling her feet beneath her she knelt at the ready. Ready for what was unclear also, but ready nonetheless. Between her poised position, and Ghillie in his 'sit' position near the fire, they looked oddly alike, both attentive and unsure. 

The misshapen, irregular accumulation of rags and scarves in front of her moved further out of the surrounding ring of trees, rather spryly towards her, quick more graceful than she would have guessed. Glinda wondered if perhaps she had been mistaken about the age of the creature; the weathered skin, or what she could see of it, would seem to indicate someone bordering ancient. But these mountain folk though, sometimes they looked older and worse for wear long before they should. Tough life, tough winds, tough weather up this far up in the Glikkus highlands.

When she spoke, the voice did seem more in keeping with her initial impression. Dry and creaky, the vaguely womanish thing spouted, "Well, well. What do we have here? A Girl and her Dog, or a Dog and his Girl off in the woods all alone? Didn't your parents ever warn you about wandering off on your own?" Noting the look on Glinda's face, she continued, "Oh my dearie, don't let Mother Yackle frighten you…" She raised the strange crook she carried with her and pointed it at her levelly before continuing, "Or interfere with your little confession out here then. It is a confession, yes? Bless you child, have you gone forth and sinned further?"

Glinda slowly stood, not answering, or admitting anything. Absently, she also she wondered if she'd said dog or Dog? She shook her head, not in reply to the woman's question, more to clear her head. She wasn't feeling threatened per se, but still she was running through her options, in the event she needed them. Who knew whom or what was dangerous anywhere in Oz anymore?

She didn't really need her wand for sorcery all the time, unless it was a particularly complicated spell she was attempting. And she rarely attempted anything too difficult anyway. When things went too awry, it could be ugly. And anyway, Ghillie was incredibly fast and had some powerful jaws as well, as some poor rabbits and even a badger or two had cause to know back at home. Still, she felt she wanted at least her walking stick nearby. What? In case she felt like bludgeoning a more than likely harmless old woman over the head with it? 'Nice Glinda. Very civilized,' she chastised herself. She calmed her breathing, coming down from the high alert she'd been at, to a more reasonable level of suspicion. It was just a rather old, hapless looking woman, alone. How dangerous could she be?

Nevertheless, as she collected herself somewhat and stood up all the way, she was relieved when Ghillie came to sit next to her. Emboldened just a little by his presence, she addressed the stranger. "You. You look familiar…how do I know you? Are you an Uplander? What are you doing here?" She let the question trail off, her eyes narrowing.

The woman's face contracted into even more wrinkles at this, her eyes almost disappearing altogether. "It seems being out here, with no one to talk to but Handsome there, it must take the polish off even an uppity noble such as yourself then. No matter. Mother Yackle never stood much on ceremony either. Yackle is just an old woman, and she gets around true, fair to say. Could be you've seen her before, indeed. Could be."

Glinda absolutely detested hearing someone, anyone, refer to himself or herself in the first person. It reminded her of an encounter, an audience she had long ago that she would rather forget. It also reminded her of what a complete and utter ass she'd been in her younger days, not so long ago really. She sighed and let it pass, refusing to let the intruder call her to the carpet on her manners, asking in the same brusque manner, "So, then...I know you yes, or I know you no?"

"Could be. Could be you know me, true. Could be I know you as well, minnow. Could be I know well who you've been schooling with, my pink little fishy."

The lump of rags stepped lightly past her and moved on by, chuckling deep in her throat as she went, and though the woman didn't come close enough to touch her, Glinda thought she felt hands on her face, her chest, and her thighs, and down below all at once, insinuating. The wind picked up suddenly and dropped again just as quickly. She couldn't help herself, and she started and shivered, as the feeling of touch shimmied over her, leaving her feeling funny somehow. She ran her hand over her hair again to clear her head of that feeling, and it was forgotten for now.

Clearly, the old biddy was talking like a fool; but Glinda also had the inexplicable, vague idea that it was her laught that made her sound sane. Peculiar that. A different sound; a titter, a cackle, a giggle, all probably would have served to cement in Glinda's initial idea that she was just a daft crone roaming the hills, some mid-wife loon peddling 'miracle elixirs' to the isolated towns up here. But she was a good ways from any of the known settlements up in the mountain gaps that she knew of, so she was quite turned around and lost if that was what she was about. And again, her laugh somehow eased her anxiety, took the scariness out of her. Which was probably a little insane too, frankly.

Feeling no less confused, she let the woman continue past her to find a seat by the fire while she pondered.

* * *

As it turned out, the fire was not the Mother Yackle's only objective this evening. It was, apparently, the fire _and_ the wine she was headed for. She unabashedly plopped herself down right about where Glinda had been sitting. And then, damned is she wasn't soon helping herself to the bottle of wine. No niceties like _pouring_ the wine seemed necessary as far as she was concerned; she was clearly about to upend the bottle itself. 

"By all means, Mother Yackle, Mother Cackle, whatever you care to call yourself. Help yourself, no need to ask! Really!" Glinda said sarcastically. She motioned to Ghillie to come sit next to her. He settled down next her, leaning his solid frame against her, making her feel more solid as well.

Yackle stopped with the bottle halfway to her lips, one eye peering at her. She lowered the bottle slightly and grinned, her teeth were in the shape one would expect from an old woman tramping through the mountains, chewing pinlobble leaves probably. Not a pretty sight. Of course Glinda _wasn't_ expecting the woman to stick her tongue out at her, but expecting it or not, that is what the woman did before she spoke again. "You remind me of someone else. Someone…unique, as well. She wasn't slippery, flippery, fishy like you. She was…"

Glinda had had enough, and cut her off quickly, "Oh, very nice. Barge into my camp. Call me a fish. Drink my wine. Insult me. You are a delightful creature, you are." Glinda snorted her protest, and then shrugged her shoulders, her shaking her head. "Have some then."

Yackle laughed. "Ah, well then, you aren't half so fishy as you once were! Good girl then!" She raised the bottle to her lips and took a long pull at it. Lowering the bottle, she wiped her lips on her oily looking sleeve. Then she put the bottle back so it sat between them, and took out an old pipe and a pouch out of the folds of her cloak.

Glinda watched her scrape the pipe out, while she sat petting Ghillie. What did she mean by that comment? After half a bottle of wine, she was half in the bag herself, she knew, and a bit hazy clearly, as she let a complete stranger waltz in and drink her wine and all. But really, what was with all the 'fish' comments?

The repeated mention of fish made a her a little wary once more, and tickled unpleasant memories again. It brought mind again that harpy Madame Morrible. Just the thought of that woman, even now, was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in revulsion. She shivered despite the warmth of the fire, and reached for Ghillie again. She closed her eyes and shook off the feeling, and turned back to the interloper again. Well, at least Ghillie didn't seem to mind her, and she trusted him, and hoped he was a good judge of character. She relaxed slightly.

She didn't know why she let the woman make herself at home exactly. Well, she knew somewhat of it. She was grasping at a reprieve that presented itself nicely. She could keep the woman company for the evening, and put off the rest. And that was fine with her at the moment.

Mother Yackle, old woman, whoever she was, continued to make herself at home in Glinda's little clearing.

"Come here, little man," the visitor suddenly pointed at the hound, surprisingly gently, but also with a undertone of command. It wasn't a request. Ghillie immediately rose and went to her, lowering his head to sniff at her. "You're a handsome one, aren't you? And fair ways from home I see." Ghillie cocked his head and looked at her intently. "Cat got you tongue boy? No? Well, you'll let me know if you want to speak up then." Yackle scratched between his ears and turned to Glinda now.

"And how did you come to have one of these traveling with you, I wonder? Winkie royalty usually keep them you know, they hunt them in tandem with hawks. A long way from home, you are boy." She looked to Glinda again, "And you, I know, you're Gillikin born and Gillikin bred clear as day." She scratched Ghillie some more, rubbed his ears.

Doing her best to turn the tables in a conversation and a situation she didn't feel she was in control of, Glinda retorted, "Indeed? Well I wonder how you would know what Ghi- " she cut herself before she gave his name for some reason and continued, "What he is? As you say, he's a long way from home. How do you know of them then? How did you wander so far as the Vinkus"

The old woman started to speak, and then coughed. Drily. Obviously. And coughed again.

Glinda rolled her eyes, shook her head and said as sardonically as possible, "Subtle as a Reformed Unionist on a Sunday, aren't you?" She reached for the bottle of wine, filled her tin cup, and passed the remainder of bottle over with a sigh. "Have it then, that cough sounds nasty there."

Yackle winked at her, and took the bottle, sipped a bit of the rosy liquid before speaking again, "Well, your little man here has some distant relatives I think. He puts me to mind of one I ran across, also far from the dusty Vinkus. A…curious, an unusual minder that other little pup had. As much a…fish out of water," she laughed wetly, "as you are. Though, mayhap not a fish, for she could not abide the water, that's sure, froggy looking as she was. Green around the gills you might say…"

The intake of Glinda's breath was audible, and almost painful. Ghillie whined. It was unclear as to whether he whined at what the visitor had said in separate understanding, or at the reaction from his Mistress. In either case, or both, he set to whining, while Glinda steadied herself, and tried to sift what she had heard.

Yackle grinned again, and tipped the wine bottle once more.

**Thanks all for reading and reviewing again! Sorry, I'm moving a little slower in the updating these days. Holidays approaching, etc., company, annoying dogs that are more annoying when the weather oustide is frightful, won't let them play, etc.**

**Trawling back thru my early days as a lit major and recalling things I've been forced, er, I mean lucky enough to read, I had a helpful thought. So… if anyone has ever read, or had to read a book by Canadian author Robertson Davies, called Fifth Business…this will make sense. I finally determined that Yackle is pretty much 'Fifth Business' defined for me. Who knew I could reference operatic conventions without ever having seen an opera? Anyway, as such, she's whatever you need her to be, thankfully! You can look it up in Wiki if need be…. And I did enjoy the book for the record I think. Or at least it stuck with me…**


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